


Never a Fair Fight

by misura



Category: The Malazan Book of the Fallen - Steven Erikson
Genre: M/M, Off-screen Relationship(s), Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-21
Updated: 2018-10-21
Packaged: 2019-08-05 09:16:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16365068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misura/pseuds/misura
Summary: "You're sweaty."





	Never a Fair Fight

Kellanved looked up briefly as Dancer entered the structure that more or less resembled a tent.

Sometimes, it appeared to be larger on the inside than its outside suggested. At other times, the reverse. Dancer had decided to neither worry nor ask about it.

"You're sweaty." Kellanved's nose wrinkled.

_Look who's talking._ In fairness, Kellanved wasn't sweaty so much as dirty - and of course, it was anyone's guess how real the dirt was. For all Dancer knew, the real Kellanved might be bathing five times a day, putting on a fresh outfit each time.

_Unlikely, but possible._ "I went a few rounds with Dassem," he said, rather than pursue a line of conversation that would only lead to frustration.

Kellanved's expression turned vaguely pained.

"In the practice ring," Dancer added pointedly, although really, what did it matter?

"Oh. You should have clarified." Kellanved sighed. "I trust no astonishing new insights were gained? Did either of you experience a sudden slackening in affection?"

"He's very good. I doubt there is anyone alive who could beat him in a fair fight, myself included."

"If you fought fair, you wouldn't make a very good assassin," Kellanved said. "As to fair fights - well, if we ever come across one, we'll have to be sure to back away slowly. It's bound to be a trap, or a trick."

That last bit was probably true, so Dancer decided not to argue. "What have you been working on these past few days, anyway? We've hardly seen you."

"This and that," Kellanved said. "This rather more than that, if you must know."

_Why did I even bother asking?_ "I see."

"You do?" Kellanved sounded surprised. "I confess, I'm still not entirely sure what end result I may accomplish myself, but then, one could argue that's rather the point."

"Well, if you need a hand - "

"Yes, yes." Kellanved gestured dismissively. "If there is some small matter in which you may assist me, I know where to find you. Or rather: who with. You're hardly subtle. Or discrete. Or consistently absent. Honestly, is one out of those three too much to ask for?"

"I only came for a change of clothes."

"Whatever for? You're only going to take them off again very shortly."

"I think you're rather overestimating my stamina," Dancer said. True, there had been a few moments when he had enjoyed the physical nearness of Dassem rather more than he would have that of an actual opponent (or another, less skilled sparring partner) but for the coming few hours, the most energetic activities he felt up to were a bath and a meal, by preference in that order.

"I meant for your bath." Kellanved's expression was perfectly blank.

_It could have been worse,_ Dancer told himself. _He could have disapproved. He could have been plotting, right now, on how best to use and discard Dassem. Really, his taking enough of an interest to be annoying is a good thing._

Kellanved shook his head. "You'll feel better after you've killed some people."

_Well. I can think of one person._ "Anyone in particular you had in mind?"

"I haven't decided yet. If you insist, I suppose I might flip a coin."

_Two possibilities, then._ "You're that sure Oponn is on our side?"

"I'm fairly sure they're not on our opponents's side, and anyone who is not against us, is with us. But enough of this talk - go! Bathe! Scrub each other's backs! Get drunk - not that you're still at a point where that's going to serve as any sort of excuse for talking nonsense. Cavort and carouse while I slave away alone and by myself, with only my books and my shadows for my company. Mind? Why should I? Not at all, perish the thought." Kellanved's shoulders slumped.

"My heart bleeds for you." Dancer grabbed a second set of clothes, just in case.

"It may come to that yet," said Kellanved. "Though of course, that's not the ideal outcome of all this."


End file.
